


Like Calls to Like

by acosmist_t



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo, The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Alarkling - Freeform, Bittersweet Ending, Darklina - Freeform, Enemies to Lovers to Enemies, F/M, Sad Ending, Toxic Relationship, idk what else, prince x servant au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:08:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27417790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acosmist_t/pseuds/acosmist_t
Summary: Darklina Prince x Servant AU. The Darkling is the heir to the throne and Prince of Ravka. Alina is a servant at the palace. Chaos and manipulation ensues.
Relationships: Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa, Nikolai Lantsov/Zoya Nazyalensky, The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Like Calls to Like

**Author's Note:**

> Request: @sanktaleksander heyyyy twin! instead of doing hw you should write something with the darkling or draco:) maybe darklina? i forget if you ship it if not that’s okay. do you think you could write something bittersweet, like a “we can’t be together” sort of thing?
> 
> Word Count: 9.2k 
> 
> Warnings: Death, toxic relationship, tiny allusions to torture if you squint, heavy-ish makeout sessions but not really smut, probably lots of typos because im tired
> 
> a/n: its 1:30 am and i want to sleep but i want to make it clear that this is much longer than i usually write and idrk what happened, so forgive me if it’s not that good. it’s a mix of canon and non so just go with it and don’t over think it. also i do not personally ship darklina because it’s so toxic but it definitely is fun to write about. i got kinda distracted and went off the request but i hope you can still enjoy it.
> 
> once again, i urge you to read on tumblr because i can't put in italics and stuff here so it'll sound weird. tumblr: acosmis-t

There was a ticking noise in her ear that matched the fast beating of her heart.

Alina wasn’t meant to be outside the palace tonight, especially given the social turmoil bubbling over in Ravka. But she hadn’t finished her chores and would be punished greatly if they weren’t completed.

Especially if the prince caught wind of her slacking.

The wind blew her hair roughly, making Alina think it was more a warning than normal nature. 

There was this feeling you get in your bones when something is going to happen. It’s a creeping sensation that gives the present an otherworldly feel. Like the land itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

A crack of thunder cleaved the world apart.

That’s how she thought of it.

There were few things quite so powerful as the world itself. Ravka wasn’t brought to its knees by people. No, this was beyond their control.

The stables were darker than usual when she arrived. She had forgotten to water the horses after the king had returned from his hunting event earlier that day, resulting in her being in the cold night at this late hour.

Creaking sounded much too loudly as she opened the stables, and her heart was running marathons in her throat. Something about the moment terrified her, like all the bad stories she grew up with would come true in an instant.

She could never work in this darkness; her eyes had adjusted already and it was still nearly black.

She jumped as one of the horses knocked against its stall.

In and out.

She just needed to feed and water them and she would be back in her room, warming on the couch next to Mal.

Bringing a lantern with her had been too risky, but as she considered the empty building yards from the palace, she thought maybe she was far enough.

A gentle glow filled the room as Alina used her powers to light up the stables. She subconsciously started doing her chores, desperate to be out of the stables and into the palace as fast as possible.

She had been attending to the farthest stall when she saw the boy.

A scream left her mouth and she bent down to clean the now-dropped food, searching her person for a weapon just in case.

“Hello there,” the boy said. Physically, he looked to be her age, if not a few years older. But when she met his clear grey eyes, she got a feeling there was much more to him than she first assumed.

“Hi,” squeaked Alina as she diverted her eyes back to the food on the floor.

The boy was dressed in servant’s clothes- dirtied from sitting on the ground, she supposed. 

“Who are you?” he asked, gracefully rising to his feet and dusting off his clothes lightly as if they weren’t covered in dirt.

He must be another servant at the castle. One she hadn’t met yet. It wasn’t surprising given that she and Mal had just arrived a few weeks previous.

“I’m Alina,” she stretched her hand out tentatively, “and you are?”

“You can call me Alex. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” His voice was smooth as silk, sweet as honey. Alina felt the uncontrollable urge to get closer.

So she did.

Darkness always seemed to be an excuse for the actions that wouldn’t dare see the light. The anonymity of it all made one forget that tomorrow was a new day, forget the scrutinization that was bound to follow.

His hair was black, offsetting smooth pale skin. There was something so unreal about him that Alina had to fight the urge to go beyond personal space.

It was a call that demanded to be answered.

“What are you doing here, Alex?” she asked softly, forgetting her fear.

“Just some tasks I forgot needed to be done. Can I assume the same of you?”

Her face reddened. “You would be correct, yes.”

“There’s quite too little hours in the day if you ask me. So much to do, so little time.” His voice had underlying wisdom to it. It matched the expression on his face that said he knew more than he admitted.

At her silence, he continued, “Are you a Grisha?” There was a hidden hunger in his tone.

Alina cursed herself for revealing her powers like that. “What? That’s insane-”

“It’s alright, I’ll keep your secret.” 

She knew there was no point in trying to convince him otherwise, so instead, she asked “Are you one, too?”

“Perhaps.” Yes.

“What kind are you?”

He just hummed in response, thinking.

“Can I see your powers?” she pressed.

His grey eyes met Alina’s brown ones. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

She had to fully look away in order to hide the blood rushing to her cheeks. “You saw mine already.”

“I’m sure there’s more you can do.”

Distrust and curiosity waged war in her mind

The latter won.

She took another step closer, answering the call in her blood. She held his right hand in her own and said, “Trust me.”

“Of course,” he murmured.

The first time she had done this trick, it had rewarded her with a two-week silent treatment from Mal. He had always been more hesitant around Grisha, so she made a point to hide that part of herself ever since.

But Alex seemed different. Her skin reacted when it touched his own and she fought the thirst to hold onto him forever.

He was completely silent as he waited, never pulling away, just watching. His eyes widened in surprise when she finally acted.

Sunlight filled his body, lighting up the stables completely. Alina watched as her power flowed through the (many, she noted) veins in his arms. His eyes looked at her in awe and then glanced back down at his glowing body again.

Alina knew there was a burning sensation involved with the trick, but Alex didn’t seem to mind.

Better yet, he seemed to embrace it.

He grabbed her hand back tightly, holding on when she tried to pull away. He was doing something she didn’t understand.

Her light was still flowing when shadows began to form in the air, mingling with the glow from her own gift.

Oxygen caught in her throat as the two powers began to dance with each other. A slow waltz that picked up speed.

It was breathtaking.

The display reminded her of ribbons caught in the air, twirling and braiding themselves together to form a tapestry of power.

Alex broke the connection and Alina gasped and stumbled backward.

“What the hell?” She searched his eyes for some type of answer, but they revealed nothing.

“Incredible,” Alex breathed. His face seemed revitalized, his pale skin holding a faint glow. Alina felt the same.

It was like coming alive for the first time.

-

Mal was waiting for her when she returned to the palace.

Alina silently thanked every Saint for the fact that the servant chambers were warm and full of food.

“What took you so long?” her oldest friend asked.

“Just got caught up with the horses,” she answered absentmindedly.

Alina knew better than to reveal her meeting with Alex. Mal would be more than opposed at the thought of her associating with more Grisha.

More of her own people.

Prejudices aside, the two spent the night together, wrapped in each other’s arms. They didn’t speak of the secrets held between them. They didn’t speak of the active downfall of their home. 

Ignorance was bliss.

What Alina did think about was how, for the first time, Mal’s arms were not the ones she wished to occupy.

-

He had invaded her thoughts, her existence.

During the day, Alina kept a watchful eye for a glimpse of ebony hair or a corner that seemed a little too drenched in shadow.

At night, she would dream of dancing. It was the same dream every time.

She was wearing a bright white and gold dress, elaborate and beautiful. On her face, she wore an all-white masquerade mask, save for the gold adorations. It covered just her eyes and brought out the too-gold-to-be-natural specks in her irises.

Alex, on the other hand, was dressed in a slim all-black suit with silver swirls, reminding her of the kefta Grisha wore. It was trimmed and form-fitted, leaving Alina to wonder what rested underneath.

They danced with each other for hours, flowing music playing all the while. They were in their own world, far from the troubles of reality.

It was an infiltration of her body and mind- but she didn’t mind it. He was a disturbance she would like to be distracted by for a long while.

Despite his prominence in her thoughts, she rarely saw Alex around the palace. But every time she would come close to questioning just who and where he was, he would appear.

She would be walking through the halls, doing her tasks, when she was pulled into a hidden alcove.

The first few times, it had scared her. She would kick and punch at her captor until a silky voice whispered in her ear.

“It’s just me, my love.” The huskiness of his voice made butterflies fly around torturously in her stomach.

Her hands would run through his hair, feeling the way it slipped through her fingers.

Her lips would meet his, trading kisses to the light of her sun blending with his shadows.

But to her disappointment, he would disappear quickly, sparing them all but a handful of moments together.

Alina didn’t quite know when their relationship had taken that turn, but she thought some questions were better left unanswered.

She had tried to talk to him many times, hating herself for pushing his lips away from their work on her throat, but he never responded. He was cold. Distant.

It made Alina ask what she really was to him. Alex would detect her hesitance and immediately reassure her with promises that felt a little too good to be true.

“Like calls to like, Alina. Just as my soul calls to yours.” Her heart almost burst every time he told her that, but her mind refused it.

He was hiding something from her. Something important.

But when she wasn’t spending her time in secret rendezvous with Alex, she had become friends with the other servants there.

They told her about the wretched prince they called the Darkling. How he was ruthless and cold, going as far as to torture and kill those he did not like.

Prince Nikolai was one example.

The golden-haired ex-prince had been trapped in the dungeons since the usurping of Ravka, right from under the Lanstov’s feet.

And the Darkling was the driving force behind it. He led the campaign that murdered Nikolai’s father and locked the prince in chains. He was feared across the land.

They called him the Black Heretic. The Shadow King.

Based on everything her friends had told her, Alina also hated him. Someone so evil, so powerful, shouldn’t be alive. It was a matter of being unnatural.

It was a miracle Alina had yet to meet him.

-

The alcove was dark as Alex set up cushions for him and Alina, the only light coming from the small candles he had brought with him.

He didn’t know how he felt about the girl exactly. Not quite love, more an obsession.

Infatuation.

A large part of it stemmed from her powers. Meeting a Sun Summoner was something he never expected- and the perfect tool. 

Maybe he did love her after all.

In most contexts, he lacked those types of feelings. Basic things like happiness and disappointment, sure. But something so close to love, the fear of heartbreak…it was incomprehensible.

Did he love her or her powers?

He shook his head, removing those thoughts from his mind. What he did know was that the last few months he spent entangling his body with her own had been some of his favorites. He felt freer than ever, he finally met his match.

His soulmate, dare he say.

His mother had told Alex all sorts of stories growing up, particularly those of complete fantasy.

True love, they called it. The most powerful magic in the world.

However, Alex never held much faith in the idealization of love. It seemed overrated, nothing but a nuisance. But this was different.

Alina was different.

-

Like calls to like.

Her soul was bound to his.

She loved him.

There was something so intimate about knowing another’s body as well as you know your own. It was a tie that was unbreakable.

But more so, Alina knew Alex’s mind. He was brilliant, to say the least. He was a beautiful boy blessed with a brighter mind.

Lately, she had convinced him to spend more time talking and less touching. It took persuading, but eventually, he gave in.

Though that might have been due to her promise of showing her gratitude in other ways.

Nonetheless, he obliged. They spent hours upon hours laid out on cushions speaking of everything and nothing.

He maintained his sense of aloofness tinged with a touch of ingenuity, but at least he was something she could finally hold on to.

Mal was never quite the same after learning of Alina’s powers. His prejudices and judgment ran deep within him.

Alina had been talking to Alex about it while they lay beneath the stars.

“He was my best friend- he still is- but he never let me forget it,” she whispered to the boy, her words coming out low and pained. It was a tender spot in her heart that she seldom touched.

Alex ran his fingers down her forearm, leaving goosebumps trailing in his wake. “He will never understand you as I do. You and I both know the great sacrifice that comes with greater power. That’s why you are mine- because I can care for you, accept you, like no one else.”

His words set off red flags in her brain but sometimes the ruby-red shade was a little too beautiful, too mesmerizing, to register what it meant. All she ever wanted was for someone to care for her, to claim her.

Alina hadn’t realized she had spoken aloud until Alex replied, “And I will give you all of that and more. I will treat you like a queen, powerful beyond compare.”

She giggled half-heartedly. “We’re just servants, Alex. Orphans. There will be no jewels for us to wear nor history books to remember us.”

His hand slid down to hold hers, both their eyes remaining on the pinpoints of brightness above. “We will take our power, then. When we are given nothing, what else are we to do but take it all?”

Any doubts she had were drowned with kisses. Kisses that told her he loved her. Kisses that promised her a million things. Kisses that begged her to trust him.

He cherished her just as he promised, her body a treasure map meant for just him. Her nerves set on fire, her blood singing as she gorged herself on the feeling of his body on hers. A comfort she never wished to lose.

-

“Where have you been lately? I never see you in the chambers anymore,” Zoya grilled her with the shrewdness only she could achieve.

Alina had been more absent the past months, most of her waking time spent either working or tangled up with Alex. Literally.

She hummed a vague answer. “Just working around the castle. I decided to volunteer for more work to ease the boredom.”

The Squaller narrowed her eyes at the other girl. The two were never truly friends, but rather had an understanding of each other. Zoya was one of the most powerful Grisha Alina had ever encountered.

In fact, many of the servants turned out to be Grisha. Funny as it was, the palace had become one of the best places to hide from those who hated them. 

Especially the nobility.

It was the exact reason that Mal had been urging Alina to run away with him. To get away from all the danger that came with being there. He was afraid.

Afraid of the Grisha.

Afraid of her.

The ballroom was bustling with energy as Alina and Zoya entered. There was a large feast and ball that would be happening in the coming weeks which required hours of preparation.

Alex had promised Alina that he would find a way to have a dance with her that night. She told him again how they were just servants, but he wouldn’t listen. He insisted that they have their dance.

Zoya and Alina busied themselves with chores: dusting the curtains, polishing the floors, moving furniture. Eventually, Mal had joined them, finished with his work in the stables.

Alina had never imagined her and Mal to be where they were now. They had always just been orphans; nobody would care for them except themselves. There were worse places to end up than in servitude.

Alina was too busy ruminating over her current situation that she hadn’t noticed the room silencing, all of its occupants freezing. She kept on working, dusting here, shifting a chair over there.

A jab in her stomach- courtesy of Zoya- brought her back to the present. Her face reddened when she noticed half the room’s eyes were on her; her jaw dropped to hang by her kneecaps when she saw where the other half was staring.

Rather, who.

The feather duster dropped from her hand, the clatter making her ears ring even more. It must be a trick or a bad dream or a false reality or an extremely idiotic prank because this was the farthest thing from any truth.

It was Alex, dressed in a black kefta that matched the ink-colored hair that lightly blocked his face. The grey eyes Alina had spent countless hours staring into met her own and her heart dropped down into the endless pit that was her stomach.

Then, he turned to the blonde emissary standing to his left and smiled at her.

Any doubts over who she was staring at left her mind as Alex’s lips quirked up into that charming smile he had fed to Alina with a side of heartbreaking lies so many times over.

5 senses were lit on fire in 50 different ways as the action of Alex smiling at the other girl replayed in Alina’s mind 500 times.

Pieces of a disgustingly familiar jigsaw fit themselves together to form one fact that Alina would rather die than accept.

Her Alex. The boy she had shared her body with- her mind with- was the man she hated.

Black Heretic. Shadow King.

He was the Darkling.

-

Alina’s heart started and stopped on repeat as Alex- the Darkling- walked over to where she stood with Zoya and Mal.

The latter inched closer to her, placing himself slightly in front of her. He was protecting her. She could have laughed at the idea of Mal finding out just how close she had been to him already.

The Darkling regarded Zoya with cool indifference, causing the girl to bristle, but keep her mouth shut. 

Next, he looked to Mal. His lip curled in disgust once he noted the position they were in, the fire in Mal’s eyes.

Finally, after a lifetime that felt contained in a handful of seconds, his grey eyes dragged to Alina.

And he smirked.

Anger built in her chest along with the urge to use her powers. She wanted to hurt him- to burn him. 

The Darkling watched the conflict of too many emotions pass through her eyes. Sadness, betrayal, rage. Amusement played across his face, only serving to spark Alina’s anger even more.

“It’s nice to see you, too, Alina.”

She hated him. Hated him for the way she trusted him. Hated him for the way her name rolled off his tongue in such a way that still made butterflies flap around in her stomach.

She hated him for the way that, despite everything, she could never be capable of truly hating him.

Alina ignored the questioning faces of Zoya and Mal and instead chose to glare at the boy standing in front of her.

“Can I help you?” Her politeness was forced and made her sick.

The Darkling tsked at her. “You ought to watch your manners, love. Being in public requires a different kind of tongue than in the bedroom.” He had the nerve to wink at her.

Before she could move to strangle him, Mal placed a careful hand on her arm, giving the Darkling a glare of his own. “Do you require something from Alina, sir?”

The Darkling smiled at the question, ignoring it to continue staring at the girl. “Is this the one you were telling me about?” He looked Mal up and down. His hand moved to his chin, judging. “Not very impressive if you ask me.”

“Good thing no one asked you, then,” Alina said sharply.

It was then that Zoya departed, deciding that, for once, she wasn’t needed in the conversation. Mal looked inclined to do the same, but remained at Alina’s side.

“Tut-tut, darling. What did I say about your manners?”

Her heart was beating in her throat and there were a million thoughts and feelings running rampant in her mind.

“Why did you lie to me?” The question came out without her realizing. She said it weakly, afraid of the answer.

“Because I knew how you’d react. Lies have been spread about me, especially to you. Rumors plant seeds that grow into trees bearing rotten fruit. I figured it’d be best to tell you when you were ready.” There was an eloquence to his tone that Alina couldn’t come close to matching.

“There’s a reason I believe them. I trust my friends- more than I ever trusted you.”

He took a step forward leaving all but a handful of inches between them. Mal shifted uncomfortably. “We both know that’s not true. You trusted me- with your mind, your secrets, your body.” He examined her person before returning his gaze to her eyes. “I’ve seen what you truly are, and I’ve never turned away. Can he say the same?”

Mal moved forward to interrupt, his own anger blooming on his face, but this time it was Alina pushing him back.

“You disgust me. I hate you with every bone, every cell in my body. Don’t speak to me, don’t even look at me again,” she spat at him.

And with that, she grabbed Mal’s arm roughly and practically dragged him from the ballroom, the silence shattering as soon as she left.

She pretended not to see the stares thrown at her on her way out. Pretended that her heart wasn’t being split into pieces.

She put on a princess dress and a golden tiara and played pretend like she hadn’t heard the Darkling’s whisper that managed to carry all the way to the doors and out the hallway.

It buzzed in her ear like a fly.

Like calls to like.

-

Weeks toppled in and on top of each other, leaving Alina to struggle to crawl out of the sad hole she made for herself.

She had spent months with him, never once realizing his identity. She felt beyond stupid.

Luckily, Alina managed to avoid the Darkling like the plague. She would never stay in the same room for long, and if she so much as sensed shadows being too heavy, her feet would carry her far, far away.

But to her dismay, hate was still out of reach. Anytime she would consider how bad of a person he was, how much she wanted to loathe him, her mind always came back to the same memories.

Alina would think of the smile she thought was reserved only for her, the light freckles on his face that were only visible when their powers would flow between them. The feeling of his hair running through her fingers, the brushing of his mouth against hers, the small noises he would make that she wouldn’t mind eliciting again and again.

He had bewitched her, completely and wholly.

It felt like a piece of her was physically missing. Not just her body felt weaker, but so did her powers. They had always been like a second heartbeat within her, just as alive as she was, and it seems they too missed the shadows.

Regardless, she kept moving, using more work to cope with the emptiness. The other servants knew better than to ask questions, and Alina provided them nothing.

It was almost funny how fairytale-like they were. The small servant falling in love with the scary prince. And now she was left heartbroken because princes had no business messing around with servants.

And if those past weeks had been bad, the present was terrible.

Mal had left.

Those were the three words that greeted Alina that morning.

Her heart stuttered because he couldn’t have gone. He couldn’t have left her. They were Mal and Alina. Alina and Mal. Best friends since the beginning of time. 

She was stupid and ignored him when he practically begged her to leave with him. He wanted to run away together and leave the palace behind.

But she hadn’t listened because she was too busy getting hypnotized by a pair of grey eyes and a silky voice.

What was worse was that Mal didn’t run away for his own sake. No, he had run away for Alina’s. To go get some stupid amplifiers that she didn’t understand the point of.

Truthfully, she didn’t understand much of what her friends told her. Her ears and throat had been stuffed with cotton and every time she tried to cough some of it up, more got pushed down, scratching and scarring her along the way.

The thing she did pick up on was the fact that they were planning on taking the Darkling down. They explained his plans to expand the Shadow Fold and how Alina was the key to it all. 

And the amplifiers Mal was currently searching for were their only chance at overpowering him.

It left her numb. She had given herself to her friends’ side, agreed that the Darkling must be stopped. But dread still pooled in her stomach.

That meeting had been the last straw for her. Weeks of being lost in her own mind crashed down around her and Alina hadn’t realized where she had gone that night until she was kneeling inside of the darkened throne room, her eyes trapped staring at his too-shiny shoes. 

“Glad to see you make an appearance. Though I cannot lie, this is quite the surprise, Alina.” His voice trickled into her ears like honey.

“Please,” she begged, her voice a near-whisper.

“Please…what?” His legs that were previously thrown over the arm of the throne now straightened so he sat properly.

Please tell me this is all fake. Please whisper sweet lies into my ears. Please distract me with anything but reality.

“Everything- nothing. I don’t care, just give me something.” Her words sounded muddled to her own ears.

It was just the two of them in the room, the rest of the castle either asleep or guarding elsewhere. The Darkling never required soldiers to protect him, he was plenty capable of that on his own.

But even with the lack of people, when he beckoned Alina to his throne, he made sure they were shrouded in shadows. The darkness encompassed both of them, the only light was coming from Alina’s skin, allowing them to see nothing but each other.

He brought her onto his lap, her legs straddling his hips. He started at her chest, moving the fabric as his lips trailed a path of fire up to her neck, which he showed a special type of attention. Alina could already feel the bruises she’d have to work to cover tomorrow taking form.

Finally, he traced her jaw and moved to her lips. It was fire and passion and secrets and loss and it made her wish that she didn’t love the way he made her feel so much.

Mal had never made her feel like this. Her other past dalliances never even came close. The Darkling held such power over her, he could do almost anything and she’d forgive him.

Her skin tingled from the friction caused by their shifting clothes. But soon enough, those were gone, too. 

Her blood sang with every touch, every brush. The powers that had weakened so much the past weeks came back to life and resumed their endless dance with his shadows.

Everything about the moment felt so right but so wrong. She shouldn’t be here, be with him. This was the enemy.

Her hands found the Darkling’s chest and pushed him back. His eyebrow quirked in confusion before his hands slid downward.

Her breath caught and she reconsidered all of her actions. He made her come alive, so why would she want to lose him? Worse, she more than understood his actions, to some extent, she supported them.

Grisha had spent so long being oppressed and having to hide their true selves, something Alina had struggled with her whole life. The man in front of her wanted to change that. He wanted to free their kind.

But his execution was wrong. His path to freedom came at the expense of too many.

Once again, her hands found his chest and she pushed away. He immediately stopped his actions and Alina cursed herself for her stupid morals. She stumbled off his lap and the room lit up slightly, his shadows receding so there was still light between them.

“You don’t want to be doing this.” She was out of breath and two fingers touched her lips, telling her just how swollen they were.

“This is the only thing I want to be doing,” he responded, his voice deeper than normal.

It was a lie- had to be one. While his power flooded through her, she could feel him more than ever. Yes, there was desire buried in the kiss, but even lower, there was hunger. A thirst that went beyond touching.

And there was anger.

She understood now, she understood everything. “And you hate that.”

The Darkling got up and strode towards her. He circled her like prey, and she faced him as he moved until her back was facing the throne and he was pushing her against it.

This time it was him on top of her. His voice tickled her ear as he breathed, “Maybe I do.” He nipped at the sensitive spot right below her earlobe that never failed to make her melt.

She lost all her sense, all her doubts. She was a puppet on tattered strings, clay in his hand. One night, that was all.

“Why?” Her voice came out half-attentive, more focused on the ministrations being directed on her neck, her head falling back.

His hands once again moved to remove the scraps of fabric covering her body. “Why?” he repeated. “I am the Prince of Ravka, heir to the throne. There are countless things I need to be doing now. So many plans to liberate my people. They are waiting for me to save them. But I’m not, am I?”

His lips painted patterns on her neck, her chest, her body. It turned her mind off, too focused on the way he sucked in just the right spots on her throat that promised dozens of bruises for tomorrow. The way his whispering voice sent shivers through her, pleasure and anticipation rising and rising.

But then he backed up. Not much, but his lips left their place on her collarbone and his hand reached up to grab her chin, not painfully, but with force. 

His eyes met hers and he repeated sterner, barely mouthing the words, “Am I?” Alina shook her head uselessly, everything a little foggy. His hand slid down to take a light grip on her throat, the cold metal of his rings making her blood jump. He bent down so he was once again next to her ear and whispered, “The problem with wanting,” he paused, “is that it makes us weak.”

Again, his lips met hers and it was a type of kiss she had never experienced. It was laced with anger. Her lips felt like they would bruise from the strength of it.

Something clattered against the window, knocking Alina from her reverie. She pitched forward, knocking the Darkling out of her way as she moved.

She shouldn’t be here. She should be in her chambers, attending to the work or going to sleep to be ready for tomorrow. 

She glared at the Darkling, readjusting her clothes. “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” he drawled, his hands slipping into his pockets, unconcerned with the status of his clothes and hair. Somehow, he still managed to look beautiful, the moonlight making his eyes shine and the sharp angles of his face pop.

“That,” she gestured at both of their ruffled states. “I’m supposed to hate you. You’re evil and want to kill people.”

“Everything I’ve done and will do is for a reason. I want my people to flourish, and they can’t do that trapped under the feet of non-Grisha.”

Alina shook her head. “There are other ways. You’re taking their rule and giving them your tyranny in return.”

He smiled, amused- like she was just a child. “Someone has to lead, Alina. Someone has to end this. Believe me, I wish there were another way.”

It was the first time in so long that Alina heard true sincerity in his voice. He believed what he was doing was right. It almost made her want to believe him, too.

Still, she remembered the stories of how terrible he was. The innocent lives he wanted to take. She shook her head, refusing.

The Darkling backed up to sit on his throne again, resuming the lounging position Alina first found him in. He shrugged his shoulders and gestured lightly with his hand. “Fine, make me your villain.”

Alina felt sick. She spared him one last glare before nearly running from the room, his eyes following her the whole way. 

The servant chambers were quiet when she entered. Zoya was in the corner and spared her a lift of her eyebrow at Alina messy state, but again, didn’t ask.

That night, Alina stayed awake for hours. Everything replayed in her mind and she couldn’t forget the aloofness in which the Darkling provided her. 

He wanted her for her powers and her powers only. She knew that. But she also knew that nobody could make her body respond as he did. She was more drawn to him than she should be.

-

Unsurprisingly, Alina couldn’t stay away. 

Months passed and it was like she and the Darkling returned to their regular rendezvous. At least this time, they had access to an actual bed.

She hated herself for it, but she faltered every time, at every touch. He would visit her during the chores she did alone, rarely letting her actually complete them.

He was more distant than before, but there were moments where she caught him staring at her, an unknown emotion in his eyes. It wasn’t that hunger for her power as usual. It was like he was seeing her for the first time.

She tried not to let it go to her head.

What Alina did decide to focus on was the plan. They called themselves the Grisha Triumvirate, and they were going to lead the Grisha into actual freedom, not murder.

There were three amplifiers, one of which was already in their possession. Mal was still tracking the other two.

Morozova’s Collar felt more decorative than wearable. It was made from the antlers of a white stag and fit around Alina’s neck nicely. It made her feel even more powerful, like nothing could hurt her.

They had found it buried in one of the mysterious books in the library. It was split into three pieces that connected when Alina shined her light on it. A smooth white collar, rustic yet elegant. It filled her with strength.

Still, it was nothing compared to the well of power the Darkling had. That’s why they needed the other two amplifiers: The Sea Whip’s Fetter and the Firebird.

Mal was their only hope for beating the Darkling.

The days trickled by slowly, everyone holding their breath in anticipation. Tensions were rising in the towns and kingdom of Ravka, especially due to the nobility from other countries there for the feast.

The night it finally arrived, Alina had been relaxing in the chambers, pleased that she managed to finish all her chores earlier that day.

A knock at the door had her groaning but rising all the same. Genya was waiting for her with a large, covered bundle in her hands. It seemed to be in the shape of fabric.

“Before you ask, I don’t know. I was just told to prepare you for the ball,” said Genya.

Alina laughed. Her? Going to a ball? It must’ve been a joke. “What are you talking about?”

“The Darkling. He sent me here to get you ready, we don’t have long.”

Why would he want her to go to the ball? Her mind flashed back to the promise of a dance and she grimaced. “All right.”

If Genya was surprised by Alina’s lack of argument, she didn’t show it. The girl got to work on fixing her hair and tailoring her face to be as beautiful as possible. Fit for a prince.

A gasp left her mouth when the dress was uncovered. It was nearly identical to the one that filled her dreams. Suspicion rose but Alina pushed it to the back of her mind. 

At this rate, she wouldn’t put anything past the Darkling.

The dress fit her perfectly. The gold set against the white of the dress and gave it a magical glow. It was graceful, exquisite. All that was missing was…

“Where’s the mask?” Alina asked absentmindedly.

Genya looked at her confused. “How did you know there was a mask?”

Alina racked through her brain for the most believable answer that wasn’t ‘I saw it in my dreams’. “I overheard it was a masquerade ball- one of the servants, I suppose.”

The other girl shrugged and accepted it, reaching behind her to grab a white mask that was meant to fit right over Alina’s eyes. Once again, a near-perfect recreation of her dream.

Genya finished the details of the outfit and fitted the mask onto her face. A delicate push sent Alina out of the chambers and up towards the ballroom.

Her feet seemed to carry themselves, drawing her closer and closer to the sound of lilting music and easy chatter.

Light coming from countless chandeliers greeted Alina. It was packed full of people wearing the same elaborate dresses as she was. The room was dripping in glamor and money.

Money, Alina noted, that should have been going to help Ravka’s people.

She let the music wash her away, her powers giving her a barely noticeable glow. She never learned how to dance growing up, but she followed the steps of each different partner she met.

It wasn’t as complicated as she thought, rather, it was quite relaxing. Her steps fell into a steady rhythm as she was passed onto her next partner.

Grey eyes she could spot anywhere faced her. Alina jumped, surprised to see the small adoration in his eyes.

He leaned forward and said, “You look beautiful, my dear.” Unlike Alina’s, the Darkling’s movements were smooth, confident.

She cleared her throat as the music slowed and the Darkling brought her closer to dance to a different kind of song. “Why am I here?”

He looked at her concerned. “Because I wanted you here. With me. I told you, Alina, you and I are going to be kings and queens.”

She gave a different type of laugh than the last time he told her this. This one was less happy, more mocking. “You will never have me in the way you want”

“Of course, I will. You know,” he twirled a strand of her hair around his finger, “you might make me a better man.”

Alina understood how he got his power now. There was something about the Darkling that made you want to trust him. To believe in him.

“Don’t say that. We will never be together in that way; I never want to.”

“Then what way have we been together already?” He pressed a single kiss to the column of her throat, making her shiver.

The Darkling followed as Alina pulled him out of the ballroom and into one of the many alcoves hidden in the castle. Recognition flickered in her mind as she thought of the many nights they laid there.

He continued, “You know me as I know you. Like calls to like, remember?” His hand reached up to touch her face, but she pulled back.

“I don’t know you. I don’t even know your name. We can’t be together- ever. Our lives were never meant to cross and never will again. You will inherit the throne and I will spend the rest of my life attending to you. There will be no kings and queens, just a lonely king and a simple servant.” She tried to calm her mind and not to think about how if everything goes according to plan, the Darkling wouldn’t be alive in that future.

“Aleksander.”

“What?”

“My name, it’s Aleksander”

Alina barked out a laugh. “That’s the part you respond to? All of that and you only hear the part about your name?”

He smiled at her laughter. “Apologies, love.”

Her face hardened. “Don’t call me that.”

“Call you what?” he asked, confusion bending his features.

“Your ‘love’ or whatever. It’s weird.”

It was Aleksander’s turn to laugh. “Are you serious?”

“Very.”

“All right, Alina.” He was still smiling as she left the alcove

-

“We think Mal is dead.”

David’s voice made every thought eddy out of Alina’s head. “What?”

Mal couldn’t be dead, couldn’t be gone. He was tracking the amplifiers and would be back soon and together, together, they would take down the Darkling and would live peacefully and happily ever after.

The rest of the conversation fell onto deaf ears. Mal, the person who knew her best- or at least one of them. He was gone. Dead.

Alina knew it had to be someone else’s fault. He was beyond skilled at tracking and surviving in the woods. He couldn’t just drop dead. 

Her mind only came to one conclusion of who caused this.

-

Her fist rapped loudly on the door to the throne room, not waiting for permission to enter as she opened it.

The Darkling was talking down to a peasant, the inferior’s knees bent below him, his eyes frozen at the ground.

Alina heard a quiet “Take him away” as she approached the prince. A signal from his hand had the rest of the hall emptying through all different passages.

Her voice echoed loudly off the marble and stone. “What did you do to him?”

The Darkling lifted a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “I’m afraid you’ll have to elaborate.” His tone was curious, but his gaze said he knew exactly what she was referring to.

“Malyen Oretsev. He was a servant here who ran away a few months ago.” Her voice was strong and unfaltering. “I want to know where he is.”

“And you expect me to know? Darling, you’re distressed- come here and let me relieve some of it.” He beckoned slightly with his hand, his faux-caring voice only making her madder.

“No. I’m not doing this with you again. This happens every time. I bring up anything important to me, to the future you want us to build, and you distract me. I’m not some toy that you can play with whenever you’re bored.” Frustration laced her words and her volume was nearing yelling. She had had enough of his mind games and the idea that she belonged to him.

“But you do belong to me. You are mine.” Alina didn’t ask how he was able to read her thoughts, wasn’t even surprised after the night of the ball.

“I will never be yours. I hate you, remember?”

“No, you don’t. You are mad because you can’t hate me. You know who I am, Alina, know what I offer, and you don’t want to resist. Stop fighting me,” he urged, more passion than she had ever heard in his voice.

Graceful as always, the Darkling rose from his throne and approached Alina slowly. He backed her into the nearest wall, seeing right through her skin and bones to the breaking of her heart.

Alina pressed up against the wall. “I hate you. You’ve taken the most important thing from me- you took Mal. You’re going to kill so many people and ruin Ravka completely.” Her now-quiet voice cracked and the world felt too big and too small. Life was a walking contradiction. “There will be nothing left,” she whispered painfully.

She didn’t fight it as Aleksander’s arms came around her. “No,” he murmured as he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “I will strip away all that you know, all that you love, until you have no other shelter but me.”

Drowning in grief, suffocating in heartbreak, Alina let herself fall into his arms. He was a murderer, cold-blooded and evil, but he was also the last comfort she knew.

-

Aleksander knew exactly what he was doing.

He knew Malyen had gone in search of the amplifiers but didn’t expect him back as early as he came. Alina had been incorrect when she accused Aleksander of killing her friend.

In fact, Aleksander didn’t know nor care what happened to Mal.

But it was important to Alina and her future, therefore, important to him. It was an excuse for her to truly understand the power he had and influence her to join him. Despite the time they spent together, he could always feel her reluctance.

He never relied on spies or other ears to do his watching and listening. So easily could he enter anyone’s mind in the palace, no effort required. That was how he had learned all of Alina’s plans.

Of course, he had sensed it before, but never expected it to be so successful. Never expected that when he had taken Alina to the Fold, he would find her other friends waiting, geared with the three amplifiers necessary.

It had scared him, but he would never let that show. Aleksander hadn’t a clue as to how they figured out not only how to get the fetter, but also learned that Malyen was the last piece.

He would miss Alina, Aleksander realized. There had never been true love with them, but rather being in love with an idea. She was nothing but a beautiful notion, his match, someone to understand him. And she was a weapon.

She was but a sword for him to wield. But he’d damned if she wasn’t the most beautiful blade he’d ever seen. 

-

The plan worked out perfectly; Mal had returned with the amplifiers and explained how he was one of them.

That she needed to trust him.

And she did so without a doubt. She finally secured the collar around her neck and the fetter on her wrist and welcomed all the power it brought. They were hidden under her clothing to prevent the Darkling from seeing.

Going out on the skid with him had been nerve-wracking, but David had taught her to black-out her thoughts, lest the Darkling learn of their plan. 

The rest of the Grisha Triumvirate were waiting when the Darkling and Alina arrived.

The fight itself had been a blur of light, darkness, and the screeching of many volcra. Zoya’s wind along with the help of David’s inventions pulled them through it all.

Until, it seemed, the Darkling had had enough.

The world turned pitch black, the Triumvirate thrown back, save for Mal and Alina. It was just them and the Darkling now.

They were losing, Alina realized with a beat. They were silly children for thinking they could end someone of his age, his wisdom.

“Alina.” Mal’s urgent voice grabbed her attention.

There were so many things to be done and she was lucky to have distracted the Darkling with a large blast of her power, one that took a chunk out of her not-so-endless reserves.

She had weakened, so greatly.

“Alina,” he pressed again, grabbing her wrist.

She stared into the face she knew like the back of her hand. A tendril of light lit up the smoke and dirt covering his face. In the distance, Zoya started screaming, Nikolai’s protests following.

Alina saw the knife and saw the determination in Mal’s face. She knew what needed to happen for her to gain the last bit of power she needed.

Still, there was no way she could accept it. “Mal, don’t. This isn’t over yet-”

“It is, Alina.”

His hand wrapped hers around the handle of the blade forcefully, causing a jump of power to move between them. It beckoned her forward, asking for her to reach out and grasp it.

“Save them, Alina. Don’t let me live knowing I might have stopped this,” he begged her.

She tried to fight him- tried to refuse what he asked of her. Her lifelong friend, the one person that would always protect her. But he pushed her hand up towards his heart and her arm carried the rest of the way.

Alina crumpled to the ground next to him, sobs racking through her as blood soaked through his shirt and onto hers. This, this pain right here, this made her hate him.

The only thing that stopped her from killing the Darkling where he stood was the fact that she was completely and totally empty. Powerless.

Not a drop was left in her stores, as if it died with Mal.

Sounds were ringing in her ears as the Darkling walked towards her, her friends nowhere in sight. He grabbed her wrist and looked at her. His lips touched hers in a chaste kiss but pulled away immediately.

“What did you do?” His grip tightened on her already bruised wrist. “Where are they?”

Her powers. The reason he loved her for all this time. She was nothing now.

What shocked her the most was the glistening in his eyes, tears forming. His hands were shaking and he backed up violently, refusing to believe it. His match, his balance- it was gone.

“You were meant to be like me,” his voice cracked along with Alina’s heart.

She never knew it was possible to hate and love someone at the same time. He was truly alone. As he always had and would be.

The world silenced around them. It was thick and Alina considered trying to cut it with the knife still in her sleeve.

“I know,” she whispered. While she had never loved her powers, it still felt wrong to be without them.

They stared at each other and the rubble surrounding them for what felt like forever. They were two catalysts trapped in a violent tornado, destroying everything around them. Except now, one of them was exhausted, worthless.

They could’ve been happy. They were built for each other, gifted with power only they could understand. Alina was in ruin.

Everything froze as something shifted from the corner of her eye. Eyelashes fluttered on Mal’s face with a slight rise of his chest. Alina felt all the air return to her. He was alive.

The Darkling seemed to notice this, too. Like before, his lip curled in disgust as he raised his hand.

He was going to kill Mal, Alina realized, suffocate him on shadows.

She had heard of his preferred method of killing. Using his own powers to drain the life of another.

Shadows shot towards Mal’s unconscious body and Alina hadn’t realized what she had done until she had already launched forward, the blade in her hand aimed for Aleksander’s heart.

It hit its mark.

It was shock that reached his face first. Confusion. Denial. Betrayal.

Gratitude.

Alina dropped to her knees with him, horrified what she had done. She tried to pull the blade out and stop the bleeding, but it was no use. Grisha steel had already done its job.

He laughed. It was light, broken, and accompanied by a splatter of blood. “Like this?”

He was Aleksander Morozova, and only something of his own blood could end him. Like calls to like.

Tears filled Alina’s eyes, making everything a little blurry, including the receding of the Fold, volcra dying in its wake. Never had she wished to turn back time so much.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered shakily.

Aleksander shook his head slightly and his hand reached up to wipe the tears from her face, only serving to make more fall. “Someone to mourn me.” He stopped, catching his breath. “No grave,” he paused, “for them to desecrate.”

Her hand gripped his tightly, reliving all their time together. He had given her something when she had nothing. “All right,” she murmured, closing her eyes.

His own eyelids drooped, the life draining from him quickly.

“Once more,” he asked her. “Speak my name once more.”

Her heart broke even more. You might make me a better man, he had told her.

Lying on the ground, he no longer seemed the monster he was made out to be. Even in death, he was a beautiful boy- burdened with eternity.

“Aleksander.” She pressed one last bloodstained kiss to his lips.

“Don’t let me be alone.”

And he was gone.

-

Alina sat in front of the smoking pyre, her eyes unmoving from the body that rested on it.

She had honored his wishes; she had done what he asked. His body was burned far away from the rest, ensuring that he remained undisturbed.

When Zoya had woken and seen Aleksander’s dead body, she applauded and moved forward to spit on it. Alina glared daggers at the other girl and sent a weak shield of light for it to bounce off of.

It was her fault he was dead. He would’ve changed, she could’ve helped him. And even if she couldn’t, that still didn’t excuse that she was the one to kill him.

The others had tried to talk to her about it. They brought her all sorts of food and tried to cheer her up, happy for the fact that they stopped him. But there was an unfillable hole in Alina’s heart.

Like calls to like.

She would meet him again. In different circumstances- a different world- she would find him.

Her hands brushed the dirt off her clothes as she stood, not being able to stand watching him burn any longer.

She could still feel his voice in her ear, the taste of his lips on hers. The nights underneath the stars and mornings watching the sunrise would never leave her.

Two of the three amplifiers were destroyed. Morozova’s Collar still rested around her neck.

Her hand reached up to hold onto the antlers, embracing the cool and comforting feeling of it. It was the last piece of him left, imbued within the collar.

It was no longer the pristine white it had been found in.

No, it was black, dark as shadows. And at either end was an engraved silver mark.

Two circles- the sun in eclipse.


End file.
